


Deck the Halls with Rudolphs Balls

by 6to8



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: F/M, M/M, beware of the christmas ficcage, merry christmas y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-05 02:26:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/6to8/pseuds/6to8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Christmas Season in LS a few months after 'The Big One' and the De Santa family is having a traditional Christmas Dinner with some close friends. What was meant to be boring and peaceful quickly gets out of hand as soon as Trevor is involved though. Prepare for Chaos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was Christmas Season in Los Santos. The country was already covered by a thick layer of snow, palm tree’s swayed softly in the wind as soft flakes continued to collect on car hoods, roofs and sideways. Compared to what the winter had been like way back in North Yankton, this was still pretty tolerable though. It always just stayed this cold for a short amount of time until the humid heat came back.

The Christmas spirit had also settled down in the De Santa Household. The lights that were put up outside, the countless more or less kitschy decorations and smell of food all over the house made it almost look like there was completely ordinary family living here. Amanda had at least put a lot of effort into that this year.

Seeing as this was the season of having loved ones around, they had all agreed on hosting guests this year, formerly their friends. But with having to change your name and entire life after you’ve made a deal with the FIB, there weren’t many friends left they could have invited over.

This had led to the utterly weird scenario Michael found himself into right now.

Having an awfully uncomfortable Christmas with your family was one thing. But having your awkward, poorly matching and deeply flawed friends over to join you was another.

There was Franklin who looked a little unsure if he was feeling out of place or not, sitting next to Tracey and Jimmy and then him, Trevor and Amanda. The latter trying their hardest to pretend that the person next to them didn’t exist. It was too obvious that Amanda had not been happy with the whole arrangement of having to endure Trevor’s presence during their traditional Christmas dinner, but Michael knew both of his kids had been nagging her about it for ages. He knew - he had experienced it personally a few times already - how stubborn Tracey could be, a character trait Michael had probably passed on her. She just wouldn’t shut up until she had gotten what she wanted. Tired of the week’s full of discussions and fights that had occurred beforehand, Amanda had just given up. Michael couldn’t blame Amanda for not being overly excited with the idea. He himself hadn’t been eager to ask Trevor either, seeing as Trevor was not known for being civilized enough to take part of any kind of festive activity. He wondered if Tracey knew that or just didn’t care. It seemed like Trevor was an eternally different person for Tracey, although she was well aware of his questionable hobbies and so called business activities. Maybe she was just as good at make-believe as Michael was.

Most of the De Santa Family had also taken the festive opportunity and dressed up nicely. All men were in suits, even Trevor who had made a huge scene beforehand about how fucking idiotic it was to follow a ridiculous dress code for the evening but eventually he had just given in when Michael had mentioned that it was important for Tracey that he didn’t arrive looking like a complete ass. His hair was still unruly and his whole attitude still screamed ‘fuck you’ for crying out loud, despite the suit he wore that actually made him look decent for a change. Amanda and Tracey looked breathtakingly beautiful in their dresses. Amanda wore an elegant red cocktail dress that hugged her figure just nicely, her long brown hair falling on her shoulders, straightened and shiny. Tracey had decided to wear something a little more cut off that revealed as much of her long, tanned legs as possible, her hair pulled back in a knot. Michael hadn’t been exactly happy about the way the green silk dress revealed too much of her cleavage but he wasn’t one to call any shots here if it came to the way Tracey dressed.  When the word ‘slutty’ came up, he had just pushed Jimmy out of the room.

“What a fucking, depressing death silence. Should’ve brought my pipe.” Trevor suddenly blurted out in between chewing. It earned him another death glare from Amanda, but his wife remained mostly silent, just leaving it to an annoyed hiss before she continued to sip from her wine glass. Michael knew she was boiling inside. Franklin furrowed his brow at Trevor and looked like he wanted the earth to swallow him. Michael couldn’t blame him because he had the exact same thoughts. He was getting friendlier and friendlier with the idea to leave the country right away, just to escape from this awkward situation of poorly mismatching people trying way too hard to get along with each other. Empathic embarrassment was something he usually tried to avoid for several reasons.

There was an intense snorting and giggling coming from Tracey’s direction that immediately caught Michael’s attention. He shot a questioning look at his amused daughter.

“What’s so fucking funny?”

“Oh it’s nothing.” Michael threw another proofing look into Tracey’s direction, trying to make out the source of her good mood. It could have been the wine, judging from the fact that Tracey might have had way too many glasses already but something in the way she was blushing and constantly trying to avert her gaze away from Franklin told Michael there was something eternally different going on. While he still pondered about asking her, Jimmy interrupted his thoughts by letting out a frustrated sigh followed by a harsh complain.

“Can I please go upstairs? I don’t wanna be part of whatever this is anymore.” He whined, clearly refereeing to whatever Tracey was doing with Franklin and the whole odd situation he found his family to be in. He’d always be the first one to complain about something and begging to leave the table so he could continue to play his stupid computer game. It was hard to tell if Jimmy would ever put himself together, get a job and finally move out.

Franklin for his part must’ve noticed that they were slowly attracting everyone’s attention. He quickly avoided eye contact and continued to cut his chicken in silence. He had been very silent during the whole dinner, only adding a few comments here and there and complementing Amanda on the food. There was a high chance that he had just tried to be polite. Either that or his tasting buds must’ve been non-existent. Michael loved his wife but cooking definitely wasn’t her specialty and when she had announced that she would be preparing tonight’s meal, Michael have had a real hard time biting back every sarcastic remark that had been on the tip of his tongue. He’d been definitely more relieved if she would have just ordered something from the store downtown. This way he’d always have to worry about his health somehow and how many hours he would probably spend in the bathroom after this evening. Good thing she was practically blind to the grimaces everyone else pulled when they had taken their first bite of the Chili Chicken or whatever it was supposed to be. Trevor seemed to be the only one who didn’t cringe when he shoveled more of the food into his mouth, but this was probably the only proper meal Trevor had eaten in whole decade so he was off the hook. At least it kept his big mouth busy enough so he’d shut up for once.  He had already let a few things slip that were clearly meant to piss Amanda off, one of them about how he was supposed to know that the food wasn’t poisoned. Michael had just given him a harsh look combined with a ‘Fuck off, Trevor.’ growled under his breath.

 “You’re not going anywhere!” Amanda suddenly piped up as her son made an attempt to stand up. Jimmy shot a pleading look over to Michael.

“Dad?” Michael knew it was risky to disagree with his wife. Especially on this evening and especially in her current mood. He settled for drawback.

“Do what your mum says, Jimmy. Sit down.”

“Damn, you guys fucking suck balls. And you’ve grown into a real fucking lame-ass softie, dad.” He spat in his usual behavior, sitting down again, sulking. That had strucked a nerve. Michael had been pleasantly, untypically relaxed for the whole day and he didn’t want it to be ruined now, so he inhaled sharply and willed his short-balanced temper to even out. No need to put his overweight, loser of a son into place when he was just butthurt that his own father hadn’t taken his side and helped him to get his will. Trevor had been surprisingly silent through the discussion. Too fucking silent for Michael’s taste. It made him suspicious if that crazy asshole had any plans how to somehow turn this into another Trevor Philips show.

And he got proofed right the minute Trevor opened his mouth.

“You know Michael your son’s got a good point there.”  He said. There was a flicker in his eye that Michael really didn’t like as Trevor shot a glare over to Franklin and Tracey, gripping his fork more violently than usual as if he wanted to stab Franklin with it.

“’cause I’ve been watching homeboy over there for a while and I don’t like the fucking looks he’s giving your daughter. I’d said you should be more concerned but you’re just a really fucking sorry excuse of a father so…” He scoffed, his voice dangerously lowered. Trevor had just waited for an opportunity to point out the obvious. Michael had noticed the change in Franklin’s and Tracey way to interact with each other but he didn’t want to be rude and interpreting too much into it.

That seemed to catch Franklin’s attention. He threw his hands up in an innocent manner.

“Yo T, I’m not doin’ anything, right? calm the fuck down, dog.” The smile on Tracey’s face immediately disappeared as Trevor stood up, aiming the fork dangerously close in front of Franklin’s face, his face hard and unforgiving. Franklin just looked at Trevor with such a troubled and puzzled expression on his face that it made Michael feel sorry he had invited him in the first place. Everyone’s attention was on Trevor again. Just like Michael had foreseen it. He had turned it into another one of his shit shows.

“Jesus Christ, Trevor. Calm the fuck down!” Michael demanded but it seemed like Trevor had completely tuned him out, his eyes not leaving Franklin who returned the stare in the same harsh manner. Trevor had a really ridiculous, unhealthy sense of possessiveness if it came to him or Tracey,  and once he was wrapped up with the idea of someone messing around with either of them, he was like bloodthirsty animal on a chain, ready to bite anyone’s head off who wronged them. He just expected Franklin to lose his cool so he had a reason to dig his fist into his face, although Franklin didn’t seem too impressed or bothered by Trevor’s behavior; probably because he was used to it by now.  He didn’t say anything but he didn’t back off either.

“I didn’t look like nothin’ from where I was sitting, homie! I held that girl in my arms when she was just a year old. Don’t even fucking think about hurting her or I’m just gonna put that fork in your body and-“

Franklin had just been ready to respond something before Tracey reached out for Trevor’s arm and held it tightly, interrupting him in the process.

“Calm down Uncle T, it’s alright. Franklin’s been really nice to me the whole evening. Beside…I-I-I started it.” She said softly, sitting down again and putting an arm around Franklin to underline her argument. Michael had no idea how she always managed to do that, but Trevor seemed to calm down. He knew if he wouldn’t have done so, Amanda would have jumped him the minute he had laid hands on Franklin. She was just awaiting an opportunity to throw Trevor Philips out of their house and probably disappointed that her most recent chance went flying out of the window.

Not that Michael gave it much interest. Not much had changed over the years. Amanda was always in a bad mood if Trevor was around. It wasn’t new. But what was new was definitely the tension between Franklin and his daughter and the looks that had been exchanged tonight.

“The fuck’s going on here?” Michael finally asked. Somewhere between Tracey being more friendly than usual with Franklin and Trevor’s sudden outburst, he had really lost track.

“Jesus fucking Christ you’re really gettin’, old aren’t you? You need your fucking eyes checked.” Trevor scolded, still a little pissed off but most of his anger seemed to have vanished already again as he slumped back down on his chair. “Our ‘lil gangbanger is boning your daughter.” He spat, earning a high pitched, girlish “Trevor!” from Tracey and a look of pure disbelief from Jimmy and Amanda .

Michael tried his best to ignore Trevor, his attention now focused on Franklin and his daughter.

“Is that true? I mean…you two? Dating?” that definitely sounded less offensive. Tracey rolled her eyes at him, annoyance written all over her face as she pushed a streak of her blonde her out of it. It was clear she had not planned on being the sudden center of everyone’s attention. There was a soft blush creeping on her cheeks. She reached out and clutched Franklin’s hand for emphasis.

“Yes, daddy! We’re dating! So what? Glad you finally noticed!”

“When did that happen? No one fucking told me!” Michael said baffled. Amanda let out a small, bitter laugh. Her soft fingers in a tight grip around the wine glass as if she’d feared that if she put it down, she would just lose her nerves completely. She was either already drunk or just trying to find a proper outlet for her anger.

“That’s because you’re always too fucking caught up with yourself to notice anyone else!”

“Oh fuck off! I’ve tried my very fucking best to blend in and act like we’re the most, fucking ordinary family around here! I would have been fine if it was just us sitting around while we all state how much we hate each other like every fucking year! No fucking need to pull anyone else into this! It was your idea after all!”

“Fuck you, Michael! I certainly didn’t invite him!” she pointed at Trevor, her pretty face crumpled in anger. “I’m so sorry I just wanted a silent, peaceful family dinner!” the overall mood was were getting pretty heated and Michael knew if they continued like this it would even top the Christmas when Trevor had brought a deer he had shot in the woods and somehow managed to sneak  it under their ‘Christmas tree’ without anyone noticing until the kids were meant to get their gifts (It had practically just been the tiniest, sorry looking pine he had been able to pay with his last paycheck that would fit into their small apartment.). It had been traumatic. Amanda had gone right into berserk mode and tried to stab Trevor with a knife, much to Trevor’s amusement. Michael had tried his best to explain to his upset offspring that the deer was just ‘asleep’, which was hard seeing as it was still bleeding and steadily staining the carpet underneath with blood. And this was just one horrible Christmas in a long painful tradition of other Christmas evenings that had been just as bad.

“Fuck this shit! All of this! We’re all too fucked up to sit here. I don’t fucking know why we’re even trying!” Michael screamed, his fist colliding with the table underneath him so hard that the Christmas decoration and the dishes were shaking. No one said anything to that point. It didn’t help that Trevor seemed to be the only one who was throughout amused by it. He clapped his hands in an absolutely inappropriate manner and grinned broadly.

“YES! Now this is gettin’ real fucking interesting! Honest hour, perfect! Anyone who wants to join Mikey?”

“Shut the fuck up Trevor!” Amanda shrieked. Trevor seemed to have taken that as a challenge.

“Not unless you jump onto that fucking table and show us if you still got it after all those years. Come on, Mandy! Put on a little show! It’ll spice things up!” Trevor whined in childish, condescending attitude, making an obscene hand movement combined with a trust of his hips. Tracey and Jimmy seemed to suppress a laugh but Amanda was far away from being amused by it. Michael watched her with great concern as her face turned a deeper shade of red, her perfectly manicured nails digging into the flesh of her palms as she clenched her fists. She could be hot when she was angry but that was definitely not the look Michael wanted to get directed at himself. It was Amanda’s “I’m-seconds-away-from-murdering-someone.” face.

“FUCK YOU!”

“You wish, sweetheart. Can’t blame you! We both know Uncle T could always satisfy you in ways Michael can’t.”

“Oh bite me, T! Stay out of this.” The discussion would have gone on and on if Franklin wouldn’t have stood up suddenly, his face full of utter disbelief.

“Are you guys for real? I drove all the way here so I don’t have to spend Christmas with my crazy ass-aunt and now you’re all just in each other’s faces? Shit, man. Dunno if that’s even remotely better.” Franklin deadpanned, looking back and forth between Amanda and Trevor, trying to get some sense back into them. It was clear that they were just seconds away from strangling each other. Or worse.

“Way I see it Christmas is ‘bout spending some fucking time with the people you love. Y’know what? You’re all fucked up. Get over it, A’right? Trevor man, quit the crazy-ass-killing-threats dude, just for once. It’s Christmas, no one’s gonna get clapped tonight. Michael, man I’ve wanted to tell you ‘bout me and Trace. I’m sorry I didn’t, k? now calm the fuck down. All of you.” Trevor seemed to ponder for a while if he was going to beat Franklin up for what he had just said or just applaud him for his selfless stand up. Usually he didn’t respond well to people bossing him around and everything that included trying to push authority on Trevor came close to a suicide attempt. Franklin seemed to have gained some control over him for the short amount of time in which they knew each other and he was aware of which buttons he had to push. It impressed Michael more than he was willing to admit. Lord knew it had taken him years to find a way to bear with Trevor when he was angry. Was there anything that kid wasn’t talented with?

“Franklin’s right. You couldn’t have found someone better, Tracey. I’m glad it’s Franklin. I’m happy for the two of you. And so is Trevor.” Michael honestly admitted, giving Franklin a quick smile.

“Thanks dog, that’s cool.”

Michael threw a proofing look over to Trevor, who still seemed a little caught off guard but in a less provocative mood. The words that fell from his lips were still pretty sharp though.

“Yeah Franklin’s definitely the better choice. I guess it could be worse. Sorry, homie I tend to be a little overprotective over ‘lil Trace. You learned a lot from me and Michael. Just make sure to use a fucking condom because y’know…that’s what gotten papa bear over here into reaaaaal trouble.” It was outrageous, just like you expected it from Trevor. From the corner of his eye, Michael could see that Amanda tried her very best to play deaf to the endless mocking that was thrown into her direction. She seemed to have settled for silent ignorance and drowning her spiteful words in wine now but Michael knew once this evening was over they would have a talk. And after that it wasn’t sure if Trevor was ever allowed to join one of their Christmas dinners again.

“Thank you for this nice insight, Trevor. I think we’ve had enough of your unfitting, completely not called for storytelling for today. So why don’t you just shut the fuck up?” he suggested sarcastically. He meant every word of it. If Trevor wouldn’t shut up, he would make him. Fuck everything his shrink had told him. How were you supposed to contain your anger with someone like Trevor around?

“I’m honest okay? Someone’s gotta be. What have you taught them so far? How to be filthy, lying backstabbing ‘lil snakes that don’t get the concept of friendship?”

“As said: we’ve had enough of your honesty.” Michael stated coldly to which Trevor just responded with a growl. Franklin shook his head, once again overwhelmed with how stubborn and stupid people could be.

“Man, sometimes I fucking regret saving your sorry asses. You’re worse than a married couple.”

“Frank, you haven’t been running with us long enough to understand the chemistry between me and Michael but I’m sure that turd would have been happier if he married me instead of good old Mandy here. Too bad he likes fakeness too fucking much.” Michael gritted his teeth. Trevor was sure as hell pushing his luck today.

“Knock it off, man. I’m telling you for the last fucking time.”

“Oh my god you’re all fucked up. Can’t we just be normal and boring for 10 minutes?” Jimmy whined. They all ceased speech completely for the rest of the dinner, even Trevor who might have taken the hint that Michael wasn’t up for any more mocking today.

Michael enjoyed the silence all over the table, quietly picking around in his food. If there had been a tiny amount of Christmas spirit inside him, it was gone by now. He just impatiently waited for the moment until everyone would be leaving and he was on his own again.

Lost in his miserable thoughts that were slowly weighing down on his general mood, Michael flinched a little when he felt a warm hand on the inside of his thigh, slowly working its way upwards. Michael knew instantly it could only be Trevor’s hand. Amanda was too far away and she had long given up on pulling any kind of sexual actions on Michael.

Trevor on the other hand had no modesty. His hand continued its journey until he had reached Michael’s clothed privates. Michael nearly spat out his scotch but restrained himself fast enough so it just turned into a weird snort into his glass that forced everyone on the table to give him a confused glare. One of Michael’s hands found Trevor’s wrist under the table and brutally gripped it, showing him that he wasn’t up for that kind of stuff now. Not that this was worth a question for Trevor. He was always up for that kind of shit and he didn’t seem to mind much, easily freeing his hand from Michael’s grip, showing him that he didn’t accept a ‘no’ here. That sick bastard seemed to draw a twisted kick out of it.

Michael nervously shifted around on his chair and shot a warning look into Trevor’s direction that said something along the lines of “ _Don’t fucking go there_.” Amanda was already giving him a sharp, examining look from where she was sitting. Or he might have imagined that.

It really didn’t matter because Trevor got _‘there’_ nonetheless. Simply because he wanted to, not caring if it put Michael under a lot of emotional distress as he felt himself torn between telling Trevor to get his goddamn hands off of him right now or giving him a sign to leave the table so they could disappear somewhere for a while and fuck each other’s brains out. They had done that in the past. They even had a fucking code word for that.

His resistance crumbled even more when Trevor’s palm steadily rubbed over the rough fabric of his pants, purposefully trying to give Michael a really uncomfortable hard on. No denying here, Trevor was damn good at teasing, always had been. It was tiring to keep his guard up and will the tent away that was slowly starting to form in his pants. Michael swallowed hard. Oh how did he want to wipe that fucking, wolfish grin out of Trevor’s face right now.

Michael felt his control slip as his mind was progressively clouded with lust.

“You’re alright, dog?” Franklin asked, concern written all over his face. Michael desperately hoped that he hadn’t been too obvious. He must’ve looked like he had gotten a goddamn seizure at one point.

Suddenly he stood up and Trevor quickly pulled his hand away.

“I gotta get out of here for a while and get some fresh air or somethin’, sorry.” Michael mumbled, not caring that Amanda was absolutely not okay with him leaving the table. He didn’t care. He had enough of this and he also feared that someone would actually notice his arousal if he stayed around Trevor for one more torturing minute. He threw an apologizing look over to Franklin and his kids before he almost fled out of the room, quickly grabbing his keys and old-worn leather jacket on his way out. With no particular destination in mind, he sat down in his car and drove off. 


	2. Chapter 2

Michael hadn’t been really thinking when he had made the decision to leave the house. He neither knew where exactly he wanted to go or which places were nearby that weren’t closed today. He had just wanted to get out and kill a few hours before going back. Now that he was circling around the lifeless streets of Los Santos, he felt even more like crap when had stormed out of the house.

He took a sharp left, the street lights casting moving shadows over the interior of his car. The countless stores and sideways and bean machines that were usually crowded were empty, only a few people stomping through the snow in front of the scenery that was filled with so much more life during the daytime.  It was quite spooky but Michael was pretty much the only one driving around. There was barely traffic on the streets, seeing as everyone was probably home with their families. Just the way it was supposed to be.

It would be hard task to find something that wasn’t closed today. A few bar’s, clubs and that XXX Rated store called Pitchers he had passed already were open. Places for loners, just like him. Michael figured that a bar sounded good enough for tonight. He’d have a few drinks while he sat there all on his own, sulking and thinking about how much of a clusterfuck his whole life was.

He stopped his car in front of the Shenanigans bar. He knew he had been here once but he couldn’t remember that evening for the hell of it which probably explained how good it had been.

Even in there it seemed like someone had gone way overboard with the whole seasonal decorating. And he had thought that Amanda had gone crazy at their home, well this was topping it. Los Santos seemed to live up to it’s reputation with being the most over the top, greatly exaggerated city in the whole state. Everything here was always a little more excessive, a little more outrageous and a little more extraordinary than anywhere else. No wonder Trevor hated it with a passion. This place especially was a statement for why someone a basic and simple as Trevor preferred to live in the god forsaken desert that was Sandy Shores. You really couldn’t escape from it. It was like Christmas fucking Wonderland. Lots of fake snow all over the surfaces of the tables, each one of them also plastered with these kitschy, flashing Snowmen, Santa Clause or Reindeer statues, way too many sparkling things in general and the smell of pine tree, ginger and cinnamon so heavy in the air that breathing became quite a task. If it wouldn’t have been the only fucking bar that wasn’t either closed, crowded with criminals, questionable looking strangers, bikers, hookers and lady boys, Michael would have left right away. He was used to a lot but this was definitely one of the things that were hard to bear for a man in his age and mood.

He sat down on the bar, searching the list of beverages for any outstanding specials. He didn’t feel very adventurous today so he just settled for the least harmless sounding thing on the list, which happened to be a very expensive sort of whiskey. The bartender – some female twenty year old something with fuchsia hair that was pulled back by a set of fake antlers and a noticeably huge bust – quickly ushered towards him. She wasn’t bad on the eye and Michael gave her a small smile when she poured him a drink. At least the people here were doing their job properly, that was a plus and made up for the decoration overkill.

The first shot went down quickly, the warm burning all too prominent in his throat and stomach. This definitely wasn’t as bad as he’d expected it to be. There was a slight taste of cinnamon and honey which added perfectly to the usual smoky taste of the whiskey. Must’ve been a Christmas special edition he figured.

Michael quickly ordered a second and a third. Somewhere into his fourth shot, the burning in his throat had completely subsided and was replaced by the all familiar slight drunken buzz. His sight was getting a little weary. He leaned over the counter of the bar, rubbing his burning eyes and watching the bartender serving customers. She was really hot in her tiny, little red santa dress that did a poor job into covering her precious ass and cleavage. Michael found himself wondering what would happen if he shamelessly tried to hit on her, just for the sake of finding out if he’d still gotten the old magic. If it helped to make him feel a little better about himself, he was ready to give almost _anything_ a shot.

He grinned sheepishly, rubbing his face. God, he was a pathetic, drunk, fat, old, depressed fool that tried way too hard to cling to his youth by hitting on girls that were half his age. That girl as an example could have been his daughter.

Suddenly more disgusted with himself than self-assured, Michael ordered another drink.  Just as he wanted to grab and drink it, someone else had done so already, putting the now empty shot glass back in front of him. Michael let out a frustrated sigh as he turned around and suddenly looked into Trevor’s brown eyes.

“What do you want?” he asked curtly, not really in the mood for a conversation or any kind of human interaction. He just wanted to sit here and drown his sorrows in this delicious whiskey. “Beside snatching my drinks away from me of course.” Trevor’s mouth was a thin line as got rid of his coat and sat down on a stool next to Michael.

“I’m your friend, you ungrateful fuck. I don’t want anything. Just wanna keep you company.” He snarled, ordering another round of drinks for the both of them although Michael had not asked him to do so. Trevor had a really unnerving habit of sticking around, even if you clearly didn’t want him to do so.

“I decline. That’s why I fucking left. I wanted to be on my own.” He stated coldly. Trevor emptied his first shot in one swift gulp. Michael followed him.

“You always want to be on your own, asshole. That’s why everyone hates you.” It was harsh hearing that as to just think about it all the time. As much as he hated to admit it, Trevor had a good point here. It was his cold, introverted behavior that forced people to move away from him and it seemed no matter how hard he tried to be the good guy, the loving husband and the caring family father, it always turned out the wrong way, making him even bitterer than before. In the end it all came down to the same fucking situation. He had to apologize, he would promise to get better and somehow fuck it up again. And that ruined Christmas dinner had just done a good job into bringing that back up after he had tried so hard to forget about it. Christmas was the sensitive season. Everyone felt bad about something.

“Yeah that’s what being self-absorbed, depressed, fat, old enigma is all about.” Trevor laughed.

“I agree with everything. You’re a worthless piece of shit. That good enough?“

“Thanks for your brutal honesty then. And I assume you’re not leaving?” Michael asked, half hopefully. Trevor responded with a smug grin.

“Nope, not gonna happen, sugartits.”

“Jesus.” They ordered another round, not really knowing yet where this evening would lead them. Michael was sure he was drunker than Trevor which might have not been far from the truth. Not that it meant anything. Trevor made it to a point to quickly catch up with him. Soon there was a slight slur in his voice as he steadied himself on the bar, grinning stupidly as he averted his gaze back on Michael.

“I want to make clear that I’m just here ‘cause I wanted to finish what we’ve started earlier.” One of his hands now rested on Michael’s kneecap, softly stroking it to give him some kind of hint that Michael surely didn’t need because it was pretty obvious what Trevor was referring at. Shaking his head determined to not give in, Michael pushed Trevor’s hand away.

“We didn’t start anything. You started groping me, idiot.” while Trevor’s ability to prevaricate the stone cold facts might have been entertaining every once in a while, Michael wasn’t in the mood to argue with him about anything. That horny bastard better learned to accept a fucking ‘No’ because he wouldn’t get shit from him tonight.

“Fuck off. You ran out on me when things started to get intense, you twat. You owe me big. You don’t leave a guy hanging like that.” Trevor complained.

“I owe you shit, T. Told you a thousand times already I don’t want you to start anything when Amanda and the kids are around. And there was also Franklin…no way in hell.”

“Fucking forget about Franklin, alright? He gets to bang your daughter. Guy couldn’t be luckier. I’m not joining your hypocrite bullshit parade. When will you ever learn to be fucking honest about somethin’?”Ah of course, somehow this had to happen - Trevor questioning his honesty again as if it hadn’t done that a thousand times already. Michael had seen it coming. Trevor would never agree with him on that but sometimes he wasn’t as unpredictable as he’d like to picture himself.

“So you think we can continue like this? You’re fucking stupid.” Michael mumbled drunkenly. Trevor shot him a questioning look, his brows furrowed in anger.

“The fuck you’re talkin’ ‘bout?”

“Continue to fuck around like some sex-crazed teenager’s with a lack of responsibility. Doesn’t work that way, Trevor. Someone’s gonna get hurt one day.” Michael’s voice had that biting, passive-aggressive undertone Trevor despised so much.

“It’s working out just fine as long as you stop thinking about it too fucking much. No one’s gonna get hurt.” If that was supposed to be a promise, it sure as hell didn’t convince Michael. He miserably eyed his now empty shot glass, wondering if he’d have enough already or just order another.

“I mean it, Trevor.” Michael started again, looking very tired and older than he actually was all at the sudden. “I’m gettin’ too old for this shit. For how long you want to do this? All of this…the fucking, the robbing, the murdering, the drug abusing…we did that one last job, The Big one. Luckily we got out of it alive, we have more money than we could ever spend in a lifetime…I thought things would change then but they’re still as fucked up as they were before.”

“I’m never going to fucking stop. Never. It’s a fucking way of life! I’ve got a fucking business to take care of. The fuck were you expecting? That you suddenly felt better ‘bout yourself? You think I’m just goin’ to lean back and do what…retire? Like you did? Oh of course – you didn’t just retire. You fucking died!” Trevor spat uninhibitedly, clearly having a hard time trying to understand what Michael was trying to get at here. Michael couldn’t blame him, he hardly knew himself what he was trying to start here. A fist fight maybe to punish himself for how much of an asshole he was? Or was it just the alcohol that made his tongue lose enough to talk about things he usually avoided to talk about?

Whatever it might have been, Trevor was not buying it yet. He even stayed relatively calm as he spoke.

“I’m having a fucking déjà vu here, M. We had this conversation already so what’s been crawlin’ up your ass now? Where’s all this depressing, deeply thoughtful bullshit coming from? Is Christmas turning you into an even bigger cunt?”

“I want somethin’ normal in my life!” it was out. Michael rarely found the right words for what was going on in his head most of the time but this time it had never slipped that easily from his tongue. He partly blamed the alcohol in his blood system for his new found honesty towards Trevor, who seemed to be quite irritated as he struggled to find the right words, although Trevor and ‘struggling for what to say’ were two things that hardly fit together and you rarely saw them happening at the same time.

“Normal? That’s what you’re aiming for? Somethin’ normal?” Michael wasn’t sure what to expect. The way Trevor pronounced the word ‘normal’, his voice so full of mockery, making it sound like it had been a cheap joke there was a high risk that he just pondered about wherever it was an option to just bury his fist into Michael’s face.

Much to his surprise, Trevor’s face actually softened a little. He pointed to the wall right behind the bar.

“Look there. You know what this is?” it took Michael a few seconds to recognize what Trevor was pointing at with his sight blurry and spinning all the time, he had problems focusing properly. Then he spotted the small, barely noticeable mistletoe right above the wooden sign that listed the alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages. Confusion must’ve been written all over his face as he locked eyes with Trevor, trying his best to read in them. If that asshole was trying to make fun of him again after he had pretty much puked his heart in front of his feet…

“Yeah. It’s a fucking mistletoe. So wh-“ he didn’t get to end his sentence as Trevor took his chance and crashed their lips together, one of his hands sneaking up to stroke along Michael’s strong jawline, cupping his face, keeping him in place. Michael resisted at first but then just relaxed into the kiss and let happen whatever Trevor wanted to happen. He savored the soft feeling of Trevor’s tongue invading his mouth, consumed the taste of whiskey, cigarettes and spice. It was unlike what Amanda tasted like but that didn’t mean that it didn’t taste good. On top of that, it was probably the nicest and closest to normal thing he had received all evening.

Trevor pulled away again after a while, mischievously grinning up at him as if he’d just changed the rules of their little game.  Perhaps he had. Michael was taken aback. It had been a while, actually almost a few weeks to be honest. After the big one, they had been forced to keep a low profile for quite a while and months had passed without a single call, text message or visit. Michael had promised himself so badly that he wouldn’t fall for Trevor’s practically non-existent, highly doubtable charm again, telling himself that this – whatever you might have called it – had to come to an end because it was wrong on too many levels to continue. He had gotten so good at self-denial and hypocrisy that it was an easy task to force him to believe, that he was long over Trevor and that sick, fucking twisted kind of magic he always pulled on him whenever they met.

Oh he had been so wrong. This was just another example of why Michael would never be able to turn Trevor down. The moment that selfish bastard touched or kissed him, he felt his cover getting blown off, his ego and principals getting crushed underneath Trevor’s never ending ‘I-always-get-what-I-want’ attitude.

“What the fuck was that for?” he finally pressed out, still breathless. Trevor responded with an eye roll, not up for a well detailed explanation. Not that he ever explained his actions. Trevor wasn’t like that.

“What do you think, moron? You’ve wanted somethin’ normal. Doesn’t get any more normal as to kiss under a fucking mistletoe on Christmas.” He stated, visibly irritated that it wasn’t obvious what he had wanted to archive.

“You kiss like you fuck actually. I have totally forgotten ‘bout that.” Michael blurted out, regretting it the moment he saw Trevor gritting his teeth.

“Jesus fucking Christ you’re so repressed. Can’t believe if someone’s trying to be nice to you, huh? Get that sand outta your vagina, turd. It was meant lovingly. I could have put that fucking mistletoe on my dick if you preferred that.” It was hard to imagine Trevor doing something out of purely selfless reasons, with nothing else in mind as to please someone else. Usually he always had second thoughts whenever he kissed Michael, his personal goal always to get into his pants as fast as possible. But maybe, just maybe the Christmas spirit had also gotten to Trevor and he finally thought about giving something back.

“Hey calm the fuck down. I didn’t mean it like that. You know I’m fucking horrible with this emotional bullshit. It was…nice.” Michael put a hand on Trevor’s thigh, softly stroking over it. He was bad with words, he knew that. Sometimes a single word he had said or three common words he hadn’t said, had been enough in the past to ruin a whole evening between him and Amanda, always leaving him feeling guilty and her crying her eyes out for the rest of the night. It wasn’t much different with Trevor, if not even worse. Except the fact that Trevor had always been equally bad at the whole expressing your feelings department.

 “It was just pretty hard to imagine that you could be into that kind of shit, y’know.” Trevor shot him a questioning look and Michael quickly added “The kissing I mean. You’re not exactly known for giving a shit about romantic traditions.”

“Surprise, surprise cupcakes. I’m fucking multi-faceted. Wanna find out first-hand what other rumors I’ve heard about Christmas traditions?” Trevor hunched closer, putting both of his hands on Michael’s thighs. This was definitely more like Trevor, a territory he felt safe at. Michael had to steady him a little so he wouldn’t have fallen straight into his lap in his drunken state. Trevor’s hot, whiskey-drenched breath hit the small patch of skin on his neck that wasn’t covered by the fabric of his suit. He knew where this was going and he felt guilty that the prospect of it alone was enough to send shivers down his spine. Theoretically he could always resist Trevor but practically? Well, he didn’t really stand a chance to turn him down. As soon as things got physical, he was a hot, bothered mess of arousal, just begging to be touched. It was like Trevor left burn marks wherever he touched him.

Michael had a few thousand reasons that screamed against it for crying out loud but he was not interested into listening today.

“So you wanna take this somewhere else? Fucking forget about my house then.”

“I don’t fucking care where you want to get fucked as long as I get to fuck you.” Trevor growled impatiently.

“Let’s find a hotel then. One that isn’t too far away of course. You better hope we’ll be fucking lucky.” Michael mumbled, taking out his wallet to pay his bill. The bartender hurried over as if she had just waited for him to make contact again, smiling and biting her lower lip teasingly. Michael gave her a flirty wink. If he wouldn’t have been with Trevor right now and most of all married already, he would have so taken her home that was for sure. But one betrayal was enough for now. Amanda would be ten times more suspicious if he came home smelling of women perfume. She seemed to have a sixth sense for that anyway.

“Hey sweetie.” Michael said, leaning over the bar a little, hoping that she wouldn’t mind how drunk he was. “You know if there’s a hotel somewhere where we can crash for the night? I’m afraid my friend and me can’t drive in our current condition.” She gave him another a soft smile, pursing her perfectly hot red painted lips.

“There’s a motel just down the road actually. It’s really just a few blocks. You can’t miss it.”

“Thank you. What’s your name gorgeous?” he asked spontaneously. Having a name to fit the beautiful frame didn’t hurt right?

“It’s Jane.” Michael smiled and pulled out a few notes, leaving her a generous tip, which she cheekily stuffed into her cleavage. Jane really fitted her. Damn, if that woman wasn’t hot beyond words and exactly what he usually liked.

He had completely forgotten about Trevor who definitely didn’t respond good to rejection, especially not when he caught Michael hitting on someone else while he was right next to him. He would either get stupidly jealous or try to participate.

“You know…” Trevor drawled, almost knocking Michael over as he planted his slender body in front of him, grinning viciously as he eyed Jane up and down, admiring her curves. “If you wanna make it a threesome, sugartits, I certainly won’t mind. Two holes are always better than one.” The slur in his voice was strong and it got even more embarrassing when Trevor tried to pay her, just carelessly throwing a few notes onto the wooden surface of the bar, as if she was some kind of stripper dancing on a pole. Jane blushed, her cheeks now nearly the same color as her dress. It was obvious she was way too polite to tell Trevor to fuck off so Michael just violently dragged him forward, not caring that he had not even managed to pull on his coat yet.

“I think we’re fine. Excuse my friend, he always gets way too fucking honest when he’s drunk. Goodnight Jane.” Jane left it to a quick, shy wave, the irritation on her face very prominent as she probably tried to figure out what the deal between two middle aged men could have been. To be honest, most of the time Michael didn’t get it as well. Friends with benefits might have been fitting but then again…it wasn’t as shallow as that. It was fucking complicated, hence why he preferred to not label it at all.

Trevor did attempt to run back into the bar once they were outside, claiming that her eyes had said yes the moment he had mentioned a threesome but Michael pushed him forward without mercy, cursing under his breath when he almost slipped. He was thankful that Trevor wasn’t as strong as he usually was in this state, at least as long as he was calm and peaceful. It made it much easier to get a grip on him.

It must’ve been quite a sight. Two drunk, middle aged men stomping through the storm, constantly steadying themselves on whatever they could get their hands on, sometimes even pulling at each other, to prevent themselves from falling down. At one point, Trevor nearly fell into a row of trash bins, causing Michael to break out in a laughing fit that lasted for nearly a minute and made his stomach hurt.

“Don’t laugh at me you fat fuck or I’m just gonna disembowel your body and use your skin as a coat instead.” Trevor threatened. Michael stifled his laughter behind his gloves and helped his friend back up, putting his arm around his shoulder for leverage. Trevor refused to lean on him at first but eventually gave in. He had no idea how it happened, but he felt better.

“This is nice, T. Reminds me of our nights out in North Yankton. You remember?”

“Yeah. ‘cept it was a lot colder…” Trevor said, joining Michael’s stroll down memory lane.

“…and we were always broke.” Michael finished. Usually it hurt to think about the past, the things he had given up to get live the life he was living now. It was strange how things changed sometimes. How something that seemed like the right decision at first could turn out to be the wrong decision. Way back in the day when he had been young and dumb, his greatest worry had been not to have any money left to spend on alcohol. Him and Trevor, they had spent every Christmas together. And despite the fact that they never had enough money left to buy each other pricey presents, this were easily the best memories he had about Christmas so far. There was no wife to think about, no family that needed his constant attention – it had been simple and this was probably what had made him happy. Simplicity. Basic things like appreciating the horrible, cheap eggnog they’d stolen from a shop downtown, being content with having Trevor around as they dreamt about their future, of pulling bigger jobs, making more money. To that time, the Union Depositary heist had just been a crazy idea, something they had eagerly worked forward to and not expected to become reality one day. Now, a whole decade later this was all in the past again, with more money on their accounts as they could spend in a lifetime. Time had been cruel to the both of them and if Michael could have turned back time, he would have rewind it right to the day when he stopped being happy and started being sad instead all the time. Maybe he’d even rewind the part in which he ended up betraying his most loyal and probably only friend. It sure as hell would have saved him and Trevor a lot of trouble.

Michael suddenly felt the huge urge to kiss Trevor. However, something inside him told him that he’d better slow down with all the emotional bullshit he was going through right at the moment and just let the moment pass silently before things got way _too gay_.

There was a red, glowing sign popping up right in front of them. Michael could vaguely make out the word ‘motel’ and was apparently relieved. 9 years in the humid heat of Los Santos and he was not used to walk around the snow anymore and quite thankful to get out of the cold as soon as possible, even if it just had been for roughly 10 minutes.

They entered the Motel, thankful that it seemed to be provided with a well-working heating system. Beside that there wasn’t anything special about it. There was a tiny, old looking reception with a moody, heavily tattooed, raddled man their age sitting behind the counter. He was fiddling through a tits & ass magazine and not really paying any attention to him and Trevor. To be honest: it seemed to be one of these motels they had considered a ‘crap hole’ in the past. With the hideous 60’s repeating pattern wallpaper and the stained, crumped, stained orange carpet underneath their feet Michael felt like they had traveled back in time. It even smelled the same. A mixture between mothballs, cheap perfume and something Michael couldn’t put his finger on.

“We need a room for the night.” Trevor announced in his usual gruff behavior. That got the man’s attention. He put the magazine down, scratched his thick beard and let his eyes wander back and forth between Michael and Trevor, obviously trying to find out what kind of bound they shared with each other.

“Two beds or one?” he asked curtly, followed by a throaty cough.

“Make it one.” There was a dark chuckle and even more coughing as the man mumbled something under his breath Michael wasn’t able to hear from where he was standing, but Trevor had certainly heard it. The pace in which his mood seemed to change was alarming.

“Woah, woah. What was that, cowboy?” he asked coldly. Michael could feel the tension that swung in Trevor’s voice. It told him enough about his emotional state. It was never a good sign if it changed that rapidly.

“Nothin’, bud. Didn’t say anythin’” the guy baffled defensively, accent broad and clear. Trevor leaned closer and Michael knew he had to step in pretty soon if he didn’t want this to end up in another one of Trevor Philips blood baths.

“Come on, Trevor. Let him be.” He tried, softly pulling at Trevor’s shoulder. Trevor ignored him, his eyes wild with rage, still fixated on the guy in front of him who was at least ten times heavier than the two of them but still just as half as intimidating as Trevor could be when he was pissed off.

“You sure, bud? ‘cause I could’ve sworn that you’ve just called me a Canadian fag.”

“Fuck off man! I didn’t say anythin’!” Trevor might have not been overly built but what he was lacking in mass he made up with strength, quickness and his absolutely unhinged, unpredictable temper. Michael grasped at nothing, reacting far too late as Trevor jumped over the wooden counter top, grabbed the man’s collar and brutally shoved him forwards. Michael could feel the walls shake as the heavy frame of the man collided with the solid wall, his eyes wide with shock as Trevor’s arms held him in place.

“YOU BETTER BE FUCKING SORRY! I DON’T EVEN SOUND THAT CANADIAN, YOU TRETCHEROUS, RACIST PIECE OF PATRIOTIC TRAILER TRASH SHIT! SAY IT AGAIN AND I’M GONNA CUT YOUR BALLS OFF AND STUFF THEM DOWN YOUR FUCKING THROAT!” he screamed, completely enraged. It was scary how his anger allowed Trevor to be in complete control of his movements despite his obvious drunken state. One fist went flying straight into the man’s face, hitting his nose with deadly accuracy. Michael grimaced a little, when he heard the all too familiar noise of bone breaking. Even as the man collapsed down on the floor, trying to cover his head with his massive arms to save it from getting hit, Trevor continued to mercilessly stomp down on his body, burying his boots deep into his fleshy sides.

“That’s fucking enough!” Michael shouted, using the one chance he had to pull Trevor away from the man. He grabbed Trevor’s shoulder blades hard and put his arms tight around his upper body, making it impossible for him to free himself. There was blood on Trevor’s knuckles and he still breathed heavily, probably trying his best to pull himself together.

“Give it a fucking rest, T. I think you’ve made your point clear!” Michael spat angrily, wondering why for fucks sake it was always him that got into that kind of situations with Trevor. Trevor responded with a deep, dangerous growl but he stopped wriggling against him. Once he was sure that it was safe to let go of Trevor, he released the tight grip around him and shoved him backwards. Underneath them, the man was rolling around the floor, moaning in pain and clutching his bleeding, dislocated nose. Michael sighed in frustration and kneeled down.

“It’s not a good idea to mock his nationality. Or sexuality. Or to mock at all, pal.” Michael mumbled, when he reached out to grab the keys and also to stuff a 500$ note into the pockets of the man’s worn trousers, hoping that it would cover most of his hospital bills, the rent for the room and make him forget about what Trevor had done to him before it got both of them into trouble.

Trevor grabbed Michael’s wrist and squeezed hard, his face still crunched in anger.

“You’re paying that asshole?! The fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m paying him so he won’t call the fucking police. The last thing I need on this fucked up evening is cops chasing after us just because you can’t control your goddamn temper for five minutes.” Michael scolded, releasing his wrist from Trevor’s grip with a swift movement. That seemed to make enough sense to Trevor to stop complaining. At least for tonight.

There was an unmistakable tension that hung in the air as Michael and Trevor went upstairs. Neither of them made an attempt to talk, not even after they had reached Room 25 and the door fell shut behind them. Michael had a look around as he got rid of his gloves, shoes and jacket. Their room was just like the rest of the motel. Small, dingy, and somewhere stucked in the 60’s with the same horrible repeating pattern wallpaper as downstairs and the furry green carpet. Trevor had already gotten rid of his coat and kicked of his shoes, now raiding the mini fridge, which was apart from the rest of the room – the only thing that came close to luxury. Not that he was going to complain here. No need to rent the president suite if you just craved a quick fuck with your best buddie. Although they could have both easily afforded that as well. Hell with that much money on their hands, they could have rented a whole fucking hotel. Things like that weren’t a dream anymore.

 Michael gave a closer inspection to the double bed that was taking up most of the space. Much to his personal relief, the sheets seemed to be relatively clean. He laid down, feeling content enough to close his eyes for a while as his head sank into the pillow underneath, surprised at how tired he felt all at the sudden. This was nothing like the inexpensive Egyptian linen he had at home but Michael didn’t want to be picky tonight. After how awful this evening had turned out to be, he wasn’t in much of a hurry to return home anytime soon.

The mattress creaked and dipped as Trevor flopped down next to him. Michael decided to blatantly ignore him. No way in hell that he was going to fuck with him right away. Trevor would have to keep his dick in his pants for quite a while if he wanted to get lucky at all. And that asshole seemed to sense the sudden change in Michael’s mood.

“What’s wrong?” Trevor asked, more out of curiosity than serious concern.

“Nothing.” Michael mumbled. Trevor instantly crawled on top of him. His bodyweight pressing down on him caused Michael to let out a puff. He lazily opened his eyes and shot an annoyed glare up at Trevor.

“Get off.” He demanded grumpily, trying to roll over to throw Trevor off of him. It wasn’t crowned with much success though. Trevor had trapped his lower body between his strong thighs, keeping him in place without much effort, while taking a deep gulp from the beer he had found in the fridge.

It was the way he grinned down at him, the way he acted like had not just beaten up a complete stranger for no reason at all that pissed Michael off even more. Trevor and his goddamn cocksure, so-fucking-full-of-himself attitude.

“We didn’t get here so you could sleep you lazy fuck.”

Let it be the way Trevor grinded his half hard dick into him, the friction it created or the simple fact that it had been too fucking long. Somewhere along the line Michael had said sayonara to his ego and good- hearted principals and just given in to enjoy whatever was offered to him. Funny how fast he had forgotten all about that he was supposed to be angry with Trevor for a thousand reasons.  

Soon he found himself writhing and panting underneath Trevor, his pants feeling too tight as his aching hard on strained them. He still couldn’t move properly with Trevor on top of him and that bastard was deliberately taking all of his god forsaken time to torture him. Michael bit his lip, trying to suppress the needy noises that wanted to escape his lips.

No, Trevor wouldn’t force him to beg already. Not now.

His hands sneaked underneath Trevor’s sack coat, digging his nails deeply into the flesh of his backside to leave long, red scratches on every patch of naked skin that he could find. Trevor hissed sharply and arched his back, almost dropping his damn beer in the process. Underneath him, Michael grew frustrated. He started another helpless attempt to force Trevor to fucking touch him already by delicately rolling his hips as much as was allowed to do with Trevor’s weight still on him, pressing him down into the mattress. Trevor didn’t respond.

“Come on, Trevor. Don’t be such a fucking tease.” Michael snarled impatiently, still above begging of course. Trevor laughed softly, taking one last sip from his beer before he leaned over and put it on the nightstand, his full attention now back on Michael.

“You’re not in the fucking position to call any shots here, Michael. You know how this works…”

“I’m not fucking begging you.”

“I don’t fucking care. I’ll make you. All fine with me.” Trevor quickly lost his sack coat and the grey shirt underneath, throwing it carelessly over his shoulder before he started to unzip his pants. He made sure that Michael locked eyes with him the entire time until one of his hands slipped underneath the waistband of his underwear, grabbing his dick roughly. Since he had not pulled his pants down completely and it was quite dark in the room, Michael could only see these conspicuous hand movements, taking in the slick sound it made as Trevor worked himself in a slow but steady pace. Michael bit his lower lip in frustration and moaned softly, wishing he could have just been able to reach down and stroke his own dick.

Trevor grunted fiercely as he continued to stroke himself. Michael knew he made it on purpose. That twisted fuck put on a show and enjoyed every minute of it. And fuck if it didn’t work for Michael.

“Trevor, please…” Trevor froze in his task and immediately stopped working his dick, pulling his hand out of his pants. He grinned smugly and Michael tried his best to ignore it, not giving Trevor a single chance to cherish his moment of victory.

“Please what?”

“Just…do something. Anything. I don’t fucking care!” Trevor seemed to think for a while and Michael wanted to strangle him even more, for drawing things out, for making him beg. He’d won. What else did that bastard want?

“And I’d thought you would leave me with the jingle balls here…”

“You wanna be a fucking comedian now or what? shut the fuck up. Your Christmas puns are just as bad as your usual puns.”

Trevor finally released Michael and moved backwards until he was placed right between Michael’s spread legs. He towered over him, his strong arms on either side of Michael and finally bringing their hips together. It was the contact Michael had secretly but eagerly awaited. Beneath the restricting clothing, Trevor was hot and hard.

He growled passionately, his hands gripping Trevor’s strong neck to pull him down, so close, their noses almost touched. Trevor started a brisk rhythm, rutting almost brutally against the bulge in Michael’s pants, as if he wanted to get him off right away. Their moans got muffled when Trevor crashed their lips back together, his tongue darting out to fight it’s way into Michael’s mouth. The kiss wasn’t as gentle as the one they had shared in the bar. More like ravishing, fighting for dominance.

“Get rid of the fucking pants already.” Michael demanded hungrily when they broke the kiss and Trevor obeyed without making a single, snide remark or badly intended pun. There was a self-satisfied smile on Michael’s lips as he watched Trevor pulling his pants down to his ankles and also getting rid of his own pants in the process. If he had to be the one begging he at least could always own Trevor’s dick every once in a while, boss him around so his inflated ego wouldn’t get any bigger.

“Fuck. I can’t wait to get inside you.” Trevor whispered hoarsely as he took up his former position again after having both of them successfully stripped naked. He put two of his fingers in his mouth to coat them with his spit as a replacement for the lube they hadn’t brought with themselves. Michael knew it would still probably feel a little uncomfortable but it was better as to get fucked raw. They had just done that once out of curiosity and it had resulted into him not being able to walk properly for a few days, which definitely wasn’t useful if you were always on the run from the cops. Not to mention the awkward and questioning looks he had gotten from both Brad and Lester.

Trevor had placed his fingers close to Michael’s entrance and carefully pushed one of them in.

Michael clenched his teeth against the pain, knowing that Trevor wouldn’t give him much time to get used to the sudden intrusion before he would replace them with his dick, seeing as patience had never been his greatest virtue. His dick was rock hard against  the inside of Michael’s legs, leaving a slight trail of pre come on his skin as he added a second finger and continued to finger fuck him. Michael grunted, grabbing the cushions underneath him in an iron fist grip.

Michael brought up his knees to get more comfortable, slowly relaxing. Trevor took that as an invitation to go further, pulling his fingers out of him, again leaning over Michael and locking eyes with him beneath the darkness.

Without much ceremony, Trevor replaced his fingers with his dick and pushed in, forcing Michael to see starts for a while as he tried to relax over the thickness inside him. He moaned loudly.

Trevor wasn’t overly gentle but he wasn’t totally selfish either. He made sure to aim for a slow rhythm at first so Michael could take his time to get comfortable. There was no point in fucking if it was just one of them enjoying it. And Trevor always wanted Michael to enjoy it. Wherever it was to feed his ego or trying to show Michael what a great fuck he was.

The movement of Trevor’s hips was smooth and fluid like silk as he pulled in and out of Michael, soft grunts and pants leaving his throat with Michael’s erection trapped between the heated skin of their bellies. It created some extra friction Michael greedily savored.

“Come on… harder. Don’t go fucking gentle on me.” Michael pressed out, trying to spur Trevor. He needed it, wanted to feel him even deeper. His hands quickly found Trevor’s neck, stroking it for emphasis. His skin was already coated in a fine sheen of sweat.

“Shit.” Trevor stroked over Michael’s thighs, squeezing them teasingly and letting out an animalistic growl that made Michael’s dick twitch. Trevor’s dick went even deeper into him to the point of which both of them knew that more wasn’t physically possible.

He sped up the rhythm, mercilessly ponding into Michael as if his life depended on it. If there wouldn’t have been a pillow propped up underneath him, Michael knew his head would have hit the wooden headboard. He joined Trevor’s pace, moving his hips in time with his brutal trusts. It was good. The angle was perfect. He could feel Trevor stroking over that sweet spot inside him that made his toes curl.

Above him, Trevor’s movements grew more and more erratic as he steadily approached his release. Knowing that he wouldn’t last much longer either, Michael put one of his hands away from Trevor’s neck and around his dick to give it a few harsh pumps.  He didn’t remember feeling this aroused since a damn long time. Trevor leaned down a little, close to Michael’s ear, panting and grunting obscenely into it to give him a better example of how close he was, running his hands roughly through Michael’s damp hair. Michael held his breath for a second, feeling as if there was electricity going through his whole body. He muffled his own moan when he bit down hard onto Trevor’s exposed, strong neck, tasting his salty sweat.

That seemed to have send Trevor right over the edge. Shouting a loud “Fuck!” he came hard inside Michael, his arms trembling as his orgasm washed over him. Michael followed him a few seconds later, shooting his load all over his and Trevor’s belly with a fierce groan. His body went from tense to spent in an heartbeat. Trevor collapsed on top of him and rested there for a while, his breathing still rushed and heavy. He then reached down and pulled the blanket up to put them around their still heated bodies. Usually Michael didn’t allow this to happen until he had cleaned himself up – he wasn’t overly sensitive about it but he didn’t like falling asleep cum-stained and sweaty. Right now he couldn’t have cared less though. He felt content and tired enough to fall asleep right ahead. It might have been this post orgasm laziness some people talked about.

Trevor nuzzled his head against the heaving of Michael’s chest. Michael couldn’t bite back the soft smile that spread across his features the moment he noticed it. Trevor looked almost harmless like this. More like his old self back in the day in North Yankton. He looked calm and healthy for a change and not pale and bitter as he usually did. Michael couldn’t deny that he missed that part of Trevor sometimes. He secretly wished that Trevor could have stopped his constant drugs abuse or at least cut back on it a little. The meth had made things worse and it was visible that it was slowly draining him out both physically and emotionally. With someone like Trevor, you might have thought that it was his fate to probably either die of an overdose or getting shot one day. And he seemed to be okay with that. Michael didn’t know where this would leave him in life. How would he die one day? With a gun in his hand like he had always planned it?

Michael sighed as he felt his mood drop again. He shivered a little, eyes locked on the ceiling above.

Without being fully aware of it, Michael had put his arms around Trevor’s body, trying to keep him close, silently pleading that his warmth and presence would comfort him somehow. Ironically enough, Trevor was the only one he felt safe around.

Michael usually wasn’t someone for cuddling after sex. Not because he didn’t like Trevor, more because it made him feel awkward and weak. Everyone always expected him to be strong, to be in complete control of himself and his surroundings, so he rarely let his guard down for anyone, afraid that whoever he shared his bed with would be able to see how vulnerable he could be and maybe taken advantage of it one way or another. It was his low self-esteem, the self-hating he couldn’t shake. Trevor wasn’t the one to tip toe around his insecurities carefully. He was more like the type of guy who jumped right in, mocking him about it whenever he got the chance.

Trevor lifted his head and shot him a questioning look.

“Thought you hated cuddling?”

“I fucking do, man. I don’t know. Shit. Don’t make me fucking explain something I don’t even get myself.”

“Yeah yeah yeah. Calm the fuck down, sugar. I was just wondering. No reason to get touchy ‘bout it. I’ve been thinkin’...” Michael had no idea what he had to expect now.

“What were you thinkin’ about?” he asked. Trevor smiled up at him. It was one of these warm, honest smiles you rarely saw creeping on Trevor’s face.

“That we should drive up to North Yankton for the rest of the holidays. Remember that lake in the south west of Ludendorff? It’s completely frozen during this time of the year. Dunno, maybe we drag Tracey and Franklin along, maybe also Lamar and Jimmy and then I’m gonna show all of you how to play fucking Hockey.” Michael furrowed his brow at him, a little irritated with his suggestion. He couldn’t really picture himself standing on these damn skates, left alone holding a hockey stick. There was a reason he preferred tennis and golf – these activities at least happened on safe, solid ground. Trevor must’ve either lost the last amounts of his sanity or he was still drunk. Sure, Ludendorff was nice during this time of the year – fucking cold, but nice. Sadly it was definitely not a place for young adults or teenagers or more preferably his spoiled offspring. He would have loved to show his children the places he had spend most of his life at but he couldn’t see them being even remotely interested in that. He could almost hear the sighs of annoyance and the endless complaining that would occur. Jimmy would probably whine all the time about how the cold, fresh air made his head hurt, Tracey would document and post their entire trip on Lifeinvader, adding “My Dad and Uncle are soooooo beyond the times!” and well Franklin…he would probably just feel odd and wonder what had gotten into his poorly matched friends. And there was also Amanda who Trevor had purposely forgot about. It would just give her another reason to throw a fit.

Michael let out a deep sigh.

“Why should we fucking do that? Tracey might like the idea but good luck with getting Jimmy out of his room and away from his stupid game. I’m also pretty fucking sure Lamar and Franklin don’t even know what Hockey is.” Michael’s voice was full of doubt. He was not really befriending himself with the idea yet of having a family vacation in up in North Yankton.

“Well about fucking time someone shows them! Come one Michael…it’s gonna be fun.”

“I’m not sure, T. I’m currently kinda scared that you really want to do something with me that doesn’t include killing, robbing, drinking, drug-abusing or fucking.” Michael admitted honestly. He couldn’t see it properly in the dark but Trevor’s eye roll was pretty audible.

“I didn’t question you when you suddenly went all cuddly on me, didn’t I? so could you stop being an asshole for five minutes and just not question my motives?” Trevor spat gruffly. It had Michael struggling for a smartass answer. He bit his lip angrily, growing awfully silent.

“What’s wrong, sugartits? You’re afraid that the ice will break underneath you? I can assure you that this won’t happen. The ice is pretty thick.” Michael brought himself into sitting position again and gave a violent shove to Trevor’s chest for pulling another one of his fat jokes he despised with a passion for several obvious reasons.

“Fuck you! I could take your crazy ass any day! Just because you’re deranged doesn’t mean you’re in better shape, idiot.”

“Got the fucking balls to prove it, suedebucks? I’ve been in a hockey team for quite some time.  I’d say we turn this into a challenge to make it more interesting.” Trevor drawled. That got Michael’s attention. He had never been someone to back down from a challenge. If it was offered he would jump right in.

“Fine! Winner gets what?”

“A Blowjob!”  Michael allowed himself to fall back into the pillow underneath him, rubbing his forehead. Why didn’t this surprise him? He shouldn’t have asked at all.

“That’s really fucking lame, Trevor. Can’t you come up with anything more special? Like I didn’t give you enough blowjobs already…”

“A Blowjob is a Blowjob, Mikey! It’s always a good thing, especially if you gotta earn it first! Anything that includes you going down on your knees in front of me after I beat your precious ass at something is more than enough to make me really fucking happy.” Trevor explained, that smug grin back on his face as leaned in closer to Michael, trying to place a small kiss his lips that was certainly meant to annoy him. Michael moved his head away and pushed at Trevor’s shoulder blades to bring some distance between them.

“We’ll see who ends up on his knees, acid cock. I’ll fucking enjoy pegging down your ego a few notches. Just don’t bite my fucking dick off if you lose, alright?”

“Nah, I’ll make sure you choke on mine.”

They stayed silent for quite a while, just staring into each other’s eyes, both of them trying to find out what to say. Michael realized that no matter how annoyed he might have been with Trevor’s behavior sometimes, no matter how many times he wanted to strangle him or bash his head in, he still enjoyed being around him. Especially during Christmas. Not that he would ever openly admit that to him – some things were meant to be kept a secret after all – but somehow he had a feeling that Trevor knew anyway.

Things would always be complicated between him and Trevor, no denial about that. Whatever he had with Trevor might have been the unhealthiest, weirdest and most fucked up relationship he’d ever had but strangely, it was making him happy. And that probably said more about Michael’s mental state than it said about Trevor’s.

Michael couldn’t bite back the small laugh that escaped his mouth as it dawned on him how utterly surreal this whole situation was.

“Jesus fucking Christ. This is how we end up after all? Merry fucking Christmas, Trevor.” Michael whispered suddenly. Trevor had now laid down next to him, with his eyes closed and only responding with a slight sleepily undertone in his voice. Although still pretty sharp, it was free of the usual venom and bitterness for once as he mumbled something next to Michael.

“Seems like it. Merry fucking Christmas to you too, Michael. Now shut the fuck up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've reached the end of this story. I figured that I should better post it now before I totally forget about it over the christmas holidays. This Chapter was actually a lot of fun to write so here's hope I didn't fuck it up. Enjoy and have a Merry Christmas y'all! ;) xx thanks for all your Kudos/Comments so far. You warm my crazy heart.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe I finished this before Christmas. This was supposed to be a One Shot but more and more Plot snucked in and it just wouldn't stop. I hope it didn't get too lenghty. This will be posted in two Chapters. Rating will go up in Chapter 2 because there will be smut. I guess this is also kinda fluffy and hopefully fitting to the unique characters of all protagonists. I apologize if this is mainly centered around Michael/Trevor again but I felt like throwing in some Franklin/Tracey wouldn't hurt, even if it's just mentioned with a few nice hints here and there.
> 
> I dedicate this to each and every one of you in the GTA V fandom. You people took a huge part into inspiring this, especially the people over at tumblr and the people who took the time to read/give kudos/ and comment my stories on here. You guys are fuckin' a! Merry Christmas to you! xx


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